


For all the Reasons

by LemmyC0re



Category: South Park
Genre: Badass Tweek Tweak, Craig and Bebe are besties, Craig “I feel stupid for feeling things” Tucker, Crushes, Everybody loves foul mouthed Tweek, Foul mouthed Tweek, Kenny is a sweetheart, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Out of Character, Protective Craig Tucker, Work In Progress, [insert foreshadowing], not that Tweek needs it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:26:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28357746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LemmyC0re/pseuds/LemmyC0re
Summary: Craig Tucker never understood how flaws could be so beautiful until Tweek Tweak.Now, he just has to help Tweek understand it too.
Relationships: Bebe Stevens/Wendy Testaburger, Clyde Donovan/Kenny McCormick, Craig Tucker/Tweek Tweak
Comments: 15
Kudos: 84





	1. I fell for a cute guy while I was supposed to be planning a murder

**Author's Note:**

> Yo what’s this????  
> A multi-chapter monstrosity!!  
> I’m gonna be honest, I’m not quite good at writing multi-chaptered anythings.  
> I’m good at coming up with concepts, but when it comes to actual story... not so much :’)  
> But, I’m gonna try my best and I hope you’ll join me while I make a mess of things.

The cool feeling of the nail polish is honestly relaxing in Craig’s opinion. 

Bebe’s delicate hand holds his steady while her other hand works on painting his nails.

The two of them sit cross legged on her bed, idly chatting.

“I don’t really get it, but sure,” Craig says in regards to what Bebe was telling him. 

“You don’t get it because you’re you, Craig. Anyone else would be able to understand!” She huffs. 

“It’s not that I don’t understand having a crush on someone, I just don’t understand why it’s Wendy. She’s annoying,” he shrugs. 

“She’s _dedicated_.”

“She’s loud.”

“She’s _passionate_.”

“She’s a suck up.”

“She’s a good student!” 

Bebe leans forward to blow on Craig’s nails. 

“I just don’t really get it. You like her for all the reasons everybody else dislikes her,” he says.

“Other hand,” Craig switches out his hand for the other. “Look, Craigory-“

“Don’t call me that.”

“-when you inevitably develop a crush on some cute blonde, you’ll find all his flaws attractive too,” she states matter-of-factly, painting a coat of black nail polish onto Craig’s nail. 

“Yeah, whatever. I’ll believe it when I meet this cute, flawed blonde,” he rolls his eyes. “But still, what is it you even like about Wendy?”

“Well, first of all, she has respectable morals.”

“Even Kenny McCormick has respectable morals,” Craig rolls his eyes. 

“Which I admire about him, but stop interrupting! She’s eco-friendly, she’s charitable, she’s a nice person and she’s dedicated to her schoolwork. Her morality rate is like, golden!”

“Golden girl,” Craig snickers. 

Bebe looks down at the mattress. Her hand clutches his tighter. He can see her shoulders shaking with silent laughter. She looks back up at him, curls bouncing as she sits back up.

“Shut up. I like that she’s passionate about her interests, and not to mention, she’s so pretty!” She squeals. 

She blows on Craig’s nails again and releases his hand. 

“She is pretty, I guess,” he shrugs. 

She twists the cap back on the nail polish, tossing the bottle on her bed. 

“You’ll understand soon enough, Craigory.”

“Stop fucking calling me that,” he rolls his eyes. “And don’t talk to me like I’m a kid who asked why daddy doesn’t sleep in the room with mommy.”

She cackles loudly, flicking him on the chest. 

“I’m serious, though! Crushes are the best! Promise to tell me all about it when you eventually get one,” she says, holding out her pinky.

Craig rolls his eyes, but if he’s being honest he finds it kinda adorable that she’s so dedicated to her pinky promises.

“Fine, I promise,” he says, maneuvering his pinky awkwardly around hers so he doesn’t mess up the drying polish. 

“Excellent!” She giggles.

Craig makes the promise and he intends to keep it, but he knows for a fact he’ll never have to go through with it. 

Sure, he finds some guys attractive. But he’s just not the romance type. He’s never dated anyone or had the desire to, and it’ll remain that way. 

Does she think some guy will just show up out of nowhere and knock him off his feet? 

Yeah, right.

_________________________________

Some guy showed up out of nowhere and knocked him off his feet. 

Craig stares as their forensics science teacher converses with a blonde boy he’s never seen before. He’s visibly trembling. Kind of like a wet cat. 

Every few seconds his body will jerk.

His hair is a mess, splayed every which way. Golden locks which frame his face nicely. He’s kind of skinny and sickly looking, clutching a thermos in his hands. The laces on one of his combat boots are very messily tied, and on the other foot they’re not tied at all. 

He could not possibly be any more beautiful. 

He hears the teacher tell him he can go take any empty seat. 

The seat directly next to Craig isn’t empty, but the next seat over is. 

He unfortunately does not sit there, but sits in front of Craig, next to Annie Knitts who visibly cringes. 

“Who’s that?” He whispers to the fiery redhead next to him, Kyle Broflovski. 

“I’ve known him for the same amount of time as you, genius,” he scoffs. 

Craig rolls his eyes. 

“Who jizzed in your cereal, Broflovski?” 

“Nobody did anything to my cereal,” he taps his pencil against the table. 

Craig stares at the back of the new blonde’s head. He twitches in his seat. 

Craig’s cheeks heat up. 

He turns to Annie and stutters out something.

Craig tries his best to listen. He hears ‘My name is-‘ and something that sounds like ‘Tweek’ but he’s pretty sure that’s not right. 

“Okay?” she responds.

Craig furrows his eyebrows. Why’s she being so rude? He didn’t do anything wrong.

The blonde jolts slightly at her tone. 

“He’s a bit strange, isn’t he?” Kyle’s voice cuts through his thought process.

“The new kid?”

“Uh-huh. Is he on drugs or something?” 

“He’s probably just nervous. It’s his first day,” he shrugs.

“I’ve never seen people twitch and shake like that on their first day,” Kyle says, writing down notes about how he’d commit the perfect murder.

“He’s probably got some disorder or something. You remember that Thomas kid?” Craig says, focusing a bit more on his own perfect murder.

“How could I forget? Cartman made the situation unbearable,” he groans. 

Craig spends the entire class focusing on the pretty new blonde. He bites his tongue, wondering what kinds of things he likes to do. He wonders if he’s nice. From what he’s seen, he seems really sweet. He wonders why he’s so jittery, and where he’s from and why he’s so goddamn cute. 

Every jolt of his body makes Craig’s lips twitch upward slightly. 

He thinks of all the ways he could approach him. 

He doesn’t realize how long he’s been daydreaming until the bell rings. 

He blinks, watching as all the students stand up and toss their bags over their shoulders. 

His eyes drift over to the cute blonde again. 

He shakily crams his stuff into his bag. His pencil rolls off the table and clatters to the floor. Craig practically trips over himself, darting forward to pick it up. 

He hands it to him.

It feels tingly when their fingers brush together.

“Th- gh- thanks,” he says. 

His voice is sweet like honey. 

“You’re welcome,” Craig’s cheeks are burning at this point. 

He stares at him for just past the point of being too long before heading out the door, hand clasped over his mouth. 


	2. Is it really that concerning to be attracted to The Freak of Crystal Cove AKA Fred Jones’ step dad?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I scrapped this a million times and started crying lol.

Craig waits (im)patiently for Bebe outside of the school. That’s when he sees the blonde from forensics class... and Kenny McCormick with his arm slung around his shoulder. 

A pang of jealousy stabs at his chest. He chews on the inside of his cheek. They seem to be having an animated conversation. The blonde giggles- _giggles!_ -at something Kenny says. Craig wishes he could at least be able to have a conversation with him like that. 

He mentally slaps himself in the face for being so childish. He’s Craig fucking Tucker! He’s rational and logical, not petty and envious. He feels his dignity crack just slightly.

That’s when Bebe swings the door open, stepping out of the building. 

“Craig! You’ll _never_ guess what happened,” she bounces on her toes.

“Yeah, I’ve got news too,” he pulls his keys out of his pocket, walking down the stairs with Bebe.

“Ooh, sweet! Tell me all about it when we’re home!” Her heels click on the concrete, curls bouncing behind her as she walks.

“Your house or mine?”

“Hmm.. yours! I haven’t seen your family in a bit.”

“You saw them Saturday,” he rolls his eyes, unlocking the car. 

“Yeah, Craig. That’s a bit,” she says, climbing into the passengers seat.

Craig fastens his seatbelt, adjusting his mirror slightly.

“Seat belt.”

“Whatever, _mom_.” 

“Brat.”

_________________________________

“Hi, Mrs. Tucker!” Bebe shouts the second she walks in the door.

“Hi, Bebe,” Laura Tucker smiles warmly, embracing Craig’s friend in a hug. 

“Hey, Bebe,” Tricia raises her arm briefly before dropping it back down to rest on the arm of the couch.

“Hey, Tricia,” she waves.

“I’m here too, my biological mother and sister,” Craig shouts loudly.

“We know. We just like her better than you,” Tricia flips him off.

He wastes no time flipping her off right back. “Fuck off.”

“Are we sure Craig’s not adopted?” 

“Be nice, you two,” Laura says sternly.

The three of them flip each other off in unison.

Bebe giggles at the sight. The middle finger had been a regular family exchange since Craig and Bebe were little kids. She remembers when her parents met Craig’s for the first time and the looks of horror on their faces when the Tuckers all stuck up their middle fingers at one another. 

“Anyway, Craigory and I have important matters to discuss! It was nice to see you both!” Bebe says, dragging Craig up the stairs.

“So!” She walks backward until her knees hit the edge of the bed, falling back onto the mattress, bouncing slightly. “Me first!”

Craig rolls his eyes. He has no say in the matter so he doesn’t argue. He kicks his shoes off and sits cross legged on the bed. 

“Wendy fell asleep on my shoulder today!” she squeals, bouncing up and down lightly.

“Wendy Testaburger? _Asleep?_ In _class?_ ” He raises his eyebrow.

“I know! That’s what’s bothering me! Wendy is so not the type to fall asleep in class like that, and yet she did! Right on my shoulder!” She takes his hands in hers. “Do you think she did it on purpose? Do you think she likes me?”

Craig listens to her ramble about Wendy. 

He listens to her, but all the while he’s got the blonde boy in his mind. His messy, knotted hair, wide eyes and freckled face. 

“Okay, your turn. What’s on your mind today, Craig Tucker!” She giggles.

“Well,” how does he say this? 

He’s never talked about a crush of his own before. Maybe because he’s never had one. 

He listens to Bebe talk about her crushes all the time, her latest being Wendy. He guesses he’ll start with..

“There’s a boy.” 

Bebe gasps loudly, grasping him by the shoulders. 

“A boy!?”

“A boy.”

She squeals loudly, shaking him by the shoulders and making him wince from the volume. She pulls him into a tight hug, suffocating him in her shoulder. 

He pats her on the back awkwardly before wiggling out of her grip. 

“Who is it!? What does he look like!? Do I know him!?” She bombards him with question after question, making his head spin.

He holds his hands in front of her face in order to slow her roll. 

“Chill, I don’t even know his name. He’s new or something,” he bites the inside of his cheek. 

“New or something! What does he look like? Is he cute? How cute?” 

“Bebe, I’ve never spoken to him and I’m here telling you about him. Obviously I think he’s cute,” he scoffs. 

“He’s blonde-“

“Of course he is.”

“-and he’s really skinny. It’s almost worrying, but it’s none of my business really,” he shrugs.

“Blonde and concerningly skinny? Is that it?” She asks disappointedly.

“No, that’s not it! Stop interrupting me and you’ll know,” he flicks her on the forehead. 

“Ow!”

“Anyway,” he continues. “His eyes are really wide and blue. Startlingly blue. His hair is super messy and tangled.”

The more he speaks the more confused Bebe looks. Her eyebrows are knitted and she’s slightly recoiled a bit, bottom lip pouting in concern. 

“And like, he does this weird twitch thing. Like every few seconds he twitches, and I’m not sure if he doesn’t know how to tie his shoes or something but-“

“Okay, time out. Are you making this up to fuck with me?” 

“What?”

“This boy doesn’t even sound real. And.. not exactly in a good way. He sounds kinda like a freak of nature, or that one guy from Scooby Doo that turned out to be Fred’s dad,” she twirls her hair. “What I’m saying is.. what the fuck?” 

Craig raises his eyebrow. Freak of nature? Fred’s dad? Craig doesn’t think he’s a freak, in fact he couldn’t possibly be more adorable.

“Maybe I’m not describing him well enough. You’d have to see him to know what I’m talking about,” he slips his jacket off and chucks it somewhere.

“No, Craigory.. you described him just fine..” she places her hand on his shoulder. “I’m concerned, Craig. I think all these years of not dating has clouded your judgement..”

He shrugs her hand off, scoffing in frustration. 

“No, it hasn’t! You just have to see him yourself, that’s it.”

“Whatever you say, Craig..” she leans back. “I’ll take your word for it.”

_________________________________

“I wish you could’ve stayed for dinner, sweetheart,” Craig’s mom says.

“Oh, no! I don’t wanna trouble you. Besides, I’m pretty sure my mom is making spaghetti,” Bebe smiles politely. 

“Enough of that, Bebe. It’s never any trouble to have you over, you’re family,” she squeezes Bebe’s shoulder.

Craig’s family had always been fond of Bebe. She’s like a sister to Craig and Tricia, and a daughter to his parents and they all treat her as such.

She hugs Craig goodbye. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Craigory!”

He flips her off for the nickname.

“You sure you don’t want me to walk you home?”

“I live right next door, I’ll be fine!” She rolls her eyes.

“But it’s nighttime!”

“Craig, the walk takes like, two minutes,” she rolls her eyes.

“Anything could happen in two minutes, dumbass!”

She crosses her arms.

“Whatever, it’s your funeral,” he shrugs. “See you tomorrow.”

After she leaves, the Tucker Family sit down for dinner.

“So, Craig. Anything interesting happen at school today?” His mom asks, scooping some pasta salad onto her plate.

His mind instantly flashes to the blonde.

He’s obviously never had a crush or dated anyone before, so he’s never talked about that kind of stuff with his family. He has no idea what their reactions will be. Except Tricia, she’d definitely make fun of him. He decides it’s another conversation for another day. 

“No, nothing interesting, really.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I’m gonna be real, when I finally finished this draft I accidentally deleted it and it was the scariest thing ever in my life but I recovered it so we’re all good!  
> Comments are my favorite thing ever so please feel free to comment ♥️♦️♠️
> 
> I made an Instagram account to promote my writing!! Give me a follow:  
> @lemmy.c0re


	3. Weird freaky kid that bites people

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah, this took a minute.  
> I still cannot write with my laptop, so I apologize for any mistakes at all!! If I find any I’ll fix them!  
> Sorry for taking so long with this one, I’m in a bit of a writers block atm.  
> This chapter covers some of Tweek’s perspective, too! It’ll help you to further understand his closeness with Kenny. Hopefully.

Craig runs his tongue over his braces. He watches the blonde sift through his bag. He can slightly see inside. It looks like a mess. 

His eyes focus on the blonde’s tongue which pokes out of his lips slightly and the frustrated look on his face. 

He’s captivated Craig’s mind as of late. He’s created so many different scenarios in his head, as one does. 

He feels so childish. But.. it feels kinda good. 

Craig isn’t the type to really... “let his hair down” as people would say. The idea of such elementary school level thoughts plaguing his mind is freeing. But embarrassing nonetheless.

Suddenly, he’s met with pretty blue eyes. His own eyes dart to bitten lips and back up to the blonde’s eyes. _Oh fuck, he was speaking._

“Um- what?” He chokes out.

“C- can I borrow a pencil?” That sweet voice fills his ears for the second time this week. 

“Sure,” Craig’s hands have never moved so fast. 

He hands the pencil to the blonde, subtly placing his hand further down just for the slight chance that their fingers would brush. And they do. And it’s amazing. 

“Thanks,” the blonde flashes him a pretty smile.

Captivated by his adorable face, Craig doesn’t stop to think before he speaks. “You can keep it.”

“Cool, ngh- thank you,” the blonde nods before turning around.

“Uh-huh..” 

Then he realizes. 

_“That was my only pencil..”_ he mumbles.

“Nice goin’ Casanova.”

He turns his head to Kyle, who’s already holding out a spare pencil for him.

“Shut up,” he says, reaching to grab it.

Kyle snatches it out of the way.

“If you’re gonna be mean I’m not gonna give it to you.”

“C’mon, dude. Seriously?”

_“Thank you, Kyle,”_ he says in a mock tone.

Craig sighs in frustration. “Thank you, Kyle.”

He practically snatches the pencil out of his hands. 

“Don’t mention it.”

_________________________________

“Hey, Tweekers!” 

“Gh- hey, Kenny,” Tweek slings his bag over his shoulder.

Kenny ruffles his hair, which he wastes no time punching him in the ribs for. 

“Feisty as ever, I see,” he says, retracting his hand.

Tweek rolls his eyes, standing on his toes and reaching up to pull Kenny’s hood over his eyes.

“You would be, too if you dealt with the same torment I do everyday,” he rolls his eyes.

“Cartman, again?” 

_“And Annie, and Jason, and Millie, and Jenny...”_ he trails off. 

“It’s just because you’re new, it’ll die down,” Kenny pats him on the shoulder.

“Yeah. I totally believe that’s the _only_ reason,” he scoffs.

“Okay, there are.. _other things._ But none of that is your fault! Need me to bust some heads?” 

“Oh, please. You’re too soft hearted to hit anyone.”

“I may be a sweetheart but I’ll still fuck someone up if they mess with people I care about,” Kenny announces proudly. 

The two of them walk down the stairs, heading to the student parking lot. 

Kenny unlocks his rusty old truck. 

“You wanna come for dinner tonight? You can bring Karen,” Tweek says, shutting the door to the truck behind him.

“Nah, I’ve been over too many times since you guys moved out here,” he waves off Tweek’s offer.

Tweek sets his bag down on the floor between his feet.

“Dude, shut up. We get how your parents are, we’re happy to have you over whenever. Same goes for Karen. Our only regret is not having been here the whole time.”

Kenny laughs, but it’s bitter. 

“Nah, man. Don’t feel sorry because of me, Tweekers. I’d just end up feelin’ worse,” he pulls out of the parking lot.

“Ken. Don’t be like that. It’s seriously fine, we want you guys to stay over more.” 

“So, did you make any new friends?” Kenny says, turning the radio on.

Tweek knows he’s trying to change the subject. He thinks of scolding him for it, but ends up just playing into it.

“Oh, fuck off. You- gh- you know I haven’t. Everyone here sucks.”

“Well, not everyone everyone,” Kenny shrugs. “There’s a few hidden gems.”

Tweek chuckles, putting his feet up on the dashboard. “Yeah. I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Get your feet off my dash,” Kenny slaps at his foot, but he makes no attempt to actually shove him off so he doesn’t move. “I’m sure there’s some people. Any possible candidates? Anyone pass the Tweek Test?” 

“Fuckkkk off,” Tweek flips him off. 

“Yeah, you and Craig would totally get along,” Kenny chuckles.

“Who the fuck is that?”

“Nevermind it, back to the question at hand. Anyone seem nice enough to be your friend? Or, as nice as you can get for South Park,” he sticks his tongue through the gap in his teeth.

Tweek thinks about it for a minute. 

“Hm. There’s one kid. He’s a bit bland but at least he’s not mean to me,” he taps his nails against the glove compartment.

“Talk to him.”

“No way! I could barely even ask him for a pencil..” 

Kenny reaches off to the side, hand pressing against Tweek’s face messily before locating his cheek and pinching it. Tweek can see his pink and blue chipped nail polish out of the corner of his eye.

“That’s my shy little Tweekers. So cute.”

Tweek bites his thumb. 

“Ow! Fuck you!” Kenny yanks his hand back, placing it back on the wheel. 

“Don’t touch me if you don’t want me to bite you!” 

“Normal people don’t bite other people when they touch them, Tweek! This is why you don’t have friends!” he whines.

Tweek huffs.

“I don’t have friends because I’m the freaky, twitchy new kid. I haven’t bitten anyone!”

_ “Yet.” _

“I won’t!”

“Maybe.”

“Dude, fuck off!”

_________________________________

Bebe tugs her shirt off, tossing it across the room at Craig before disappearing into the closet to grab a more comfortable one.

“I still don’t really get it, Craig!” He hears her muffled voice from inside her closet.

“I told you, you have to see him!” He shouts back, pulling Bebe’s shirt off his face. 

She pops out of the closet, tugging on a T-shirt Craig bought her for her birthday once. 

Craig and Bebe have been best friends since they were kids. They’re neighbors, so it was a classic case of _‘Go play with the neighbor’s kids,’_ thus bringing forth the start of their lifelong friendship. 

They’d been through a lot together. They were there for one another when they both came out to their respective families, Craig was there for her during her breakups, and she was there for him when his grandfather got sick, and eventually when he passed. 

They actually thought they liked each other at some point, but it was just a really strong admiration for one another. They tried to kiss each other to confirm their feelings, but before their lips could even touch Craig pushed her back, admitting that he was pretty sure he was gay. In that moment, Bebe told him she was pretty sure she was a lesbian, or bisexual or something. She explained that she was pretty confused about it and Craig offered his support and promised he’d be there for her while she tried to figure herself out. 

So to shorten it down, the two of them are insanely close friends.

She huffs, sitting down cross legged on the bed. 

“He just sounds.. _weird_ , Craig! I don’t know!” Her voice softens a bit. “But, I won’t judge you. You can thirst over your Freak of Crystal Cove boyfriend all you want, and I promise you can tell me all about it.”

Craig runs his tongue over his braces, tugging his chullo hat off and shoving it in her face.

“Bitch.”

“Asshole.”

He flips her off, which she returns. 

“In all seriousness, Craig. I’m glad you like someone now. It’s nice to hear you talk about someone like that. Makes me think you have feelings after all,” she swoons. 

He flips her off again, this time hitting her with a two-hander.

“Thanks, I guess.”

“You’re welcome, I guess.” 

She holds her arms out. 

“No.”

“Come here.”

He rolls his eyes, but wraps his arms around her shoulders. She hugs him back, tightly. 

“It’s so weird seeing your blushy face so often..” she mumbles into his shoulder.

“It’s weird that I’m blushing so often..” he responds, burying his face into her hair. 

He will never in a million years admit this, but he likes these moments with Bebe. And he likes hugging her, which he will especially never admit. 

But, once again, they’re best friends. So even if he doesn’t admit it, she already knows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter allowed a bit of a closer look into the relationships between characters.  
> A slight look into Craig and Bebe’s past with one another, and a vague little opening to Kenny and Tweek’s.  
> This is definitely not the best work I could’ve done and I apologize for that!! It’s honestly just kind of a “filler chapter” if I’m being real. But anyway,,
> 
> Comment if you love sex and drug !!!!!


	4. Richard Tweak: Your modern day Captain Swivel Hips

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for   
> 1: any mistakes I might have made and   
> 2: the apparent lack of Craig in this chapter.

Tweek watches, tapping on his knees as Kenny walks out of his house. He’s alone?

Kenny climbs into the drivers seat. 

“Karen is over at a friend’s place,” he confirms. 

“Ah, okay. Is she staying the night?” he asks.

“Yeah, so we don’t have to worry about her being alone with my parents,” Kenny waves his hand, pulling out of his driveway and heading towards the Tweak residence.

“Mom!” Tweek calls, stepping in the front door. 

There’s still a few moving boxes around, but for the most part they’re almost through with unpacking everything. 

“I brought- gah- I brought Kenny!” 

He hears a few pots and pans and a clicking noise before his mom calls back.

“Just a second, honey!” 

True to her word, a second later she appears from the kitchen, opening her arms to give both boys a hug and a kiss on the forehead. 

“Hey, Kenny. How are things at home? And how’s Karen doing,” she says, brushing a few strands of hair out of both his and Tweek’s eyes.

“Karen is doing fine, she’s over at the Tuckers’ at the moment. As for me, I’ve been better. Sorry to drop by like this,” he chuckles half heartedly.

“Kenny, stop with that,” both Tweek and his mom say at the same time. 

Mrs. Tweak tightens her apron, walking towards the kitchen and motioning for them to follow.

“Kenny, you know we’re always happy to let you come here. Don’t worry about a thing! Especially when you’ve been such a big help,” she tugs down a few aprons off the hook, tossing one each to Tweek and Kenny. “Wash up. If you really do feel bad, help me out in the kitchen. Tweek, you’re on celery and onions-since you don’t cry when you cut them-and Kenny, you’re on potatoes and cabbage.”

The two of them hustle to do their own respective jobs they’ve been assigned. 

Tweek chops the ends off the onions before peeling off the rest of the skin over the sink, running water over it to help the skin come off easier. 

Kenny pulls apart the cabbage and chops up the pieces. 

“Tweek, make any new friends?” his mom asks, walking towards the sink to wash some vegetables, handing one stack to Kenny and one stack to Tweek.

“Obviously not,” he scoffs.

“It’s because he’s a weirdo who bites people,” Kenny says, sticking his tongue through the gap in his teeth.

“I’m not a weirdo who bites _people_ , I’m a weirdo who bites _you_ ,” Tweek corrects. 

“Tweek, don’t bite Kenny. He touches possums,” his mom jokingly scolds, flicking him on the forehead.

Tweek gags at that. 

Kenny just shrugs innocently.

“So, Ken. How’s work going for you?” 

“Pretty good. I haven’t gotten fired yet. It doesn’t seem to clash with any of my after school activities either. At least not yet,” he chuckles, placing some chopped up vegetables in a bowl.

When Kenny was younger, he started joining a bunch of clubs and stuff so he didn’t have to go home. Once he realized that if he had experience in sports he had the chance of getting a scholarship, he joined a bunch of sports as well. He dropped a few of them over time so he could be home more often to take care of Karen, but he’s still on the basketball team, the swim team and the lacrosse team. Sometimes the games and practices clash, but the school is understanding of his situation, seeing as it’s not exactly ideal and he’s just trying to do what he can. 

He took a job about a month ago working a few days a week after school at the elementary school. It’s an after school program where he works with children on the autism spectrum. He seems to really enjoy it and he’s always worried his schedule is gonna mess it up for him. Tweek hopes it doesn’t. He deserves at least this one thing for everything he’s done. 

“That’s good, what was the name of that one little girl that likes you a whole bunch?” Mrs. Tweak asks, picking up the bowl of what the two of them have cut up so far and tossing it into the pot before setting it back down. 

“Lily. She’s a sweetheart. They all are,” he says, looking up to smile at her. 

Tweek reaches over and grabs his hand, redirecting the knife so he doesn’t cut his fingers before moving back to his own cutting board. Kenny mumbles a quick ‘thanks.’

“I hope this one works out well for you, dude. Gh- I know you like it a lot,” he yanks his hand out of the way, knife slamming down on the cutting board due to his little tic. Accidents like that have happened before, so he has to have good reflexes in order to keep his head on his shoulders.

“Yeah, but if it wasn’t meant for me it wasn’t meant for me,” he flashes his same old happy smile. 

“Don’t be like that, honey. I think it’s a good fit for you. And the problems with your previous jobs haven’t been issues with you, you just have a tight schedule,” Tweek’s mom is facing the stove, but they can tell she has that worried pinch-browed look on her face.

She turns on the radio. It’s one of those old chunky radios, a mute yellow in color. The Tweak family has a weird game they play where they buy the oldest looking junk they can find and put them around the house as decoration, or just little trinkets they can use. It’s raised a few eyebrows, what with the clash of painting styles in rooms, the red diner stools in the kitchen, and the literal payphone from around 1950 in the corner of their living room. Their favorites are the things that play music. They’ve got at least two record players and a jukebox somewhere. 

_‘All the Young Dudes’_ starts playing, and instinctively everyone in the kitchen starts singing along loudly and off-key, giggling through the verses. Kenny stands, grabbing Tweek’s mother by the hand. The two of them perform a quick, simple box-step, before he twirls her around and let’s go of her hand, offering it to Tweek this time. 

“Wh- no! No way!” He snorts. 

_“Well I drunk a lot of wine, and I’m feeling fine!”_ Kenny belts out, tugging Tweek off his stool. He struggles against his grip, his mom singing along and grabbing onto his other arm. 

He eventually gives in and allows them to spin him around the kitchen as the three of them yell the lyrics.

_ “All the young dudes, carry the news!” _

Another, deeper voice joins the three of them, making them a choir of four.

_“Boogaloo dudes, carry the news!”_ Tweek’s dad cuts in between their little dance circle, sweeping his mom off her feet and twirling her around in the air. 

Kenny takes Tweek’s hand again, twirling him outward, cackling when he nearly topples over. As the song fades out, the four of them are a mess of giggles and tears. 

“Nice of you to join us, Richie,” Tweek’s mom places a kiss on the side of his cheek.

He pinches her nose, causing her to tear up and swat his hand away, hitting him in the hip with a nearby rag. 

Kenny and Tweek say their hellos to his dad, snickering at his parents’ display.

“Hey, Kenny. How are things?” 

“Things are as usual,” he replies.

“You’re always welcome over here. Karen, too. In fact, we’d prefer you two come over here,” he sighs.

“That’s what we’ve been telling him, Richie,” his mom picks up the vegetable bowl once more, tossing them into the pot as well.

“Kenny’s just too good a person t-to think he actually deserves anything,” Tweek huffs, poking him in the ribs, causing him to jerk away.

“This should be ready in a little bit,” his mom taps the spoon on the edge of the pot a few times before setting it down on the counter.

Tweek and Kenny watch as his parents engage in another, more subtle dance this time. 

“Y’know,” his dad says, twirling his mom outward. “I was quite the dancer back in my day,” he tugs her arm and she twirls back to her original spot, taking his hand.

Tweek snorts.

“No, it’s true! How do you think I won your mother over?” He chuckles. His mom just rolls her eyes.

“Those oldie style gym shorts!” Kenny offers. 

“Oh my god..” Tweek groans.

“Yes, that’s exactly it!” His mom cackles loudly. 

“Oh my goddd!!” Tweek groans again. 

“Richard Tweak, harboring sweet ass since the eighties,” she straightens her apron before turning back to her soup and taking some spices out of the cabinet.

Kenny and Tweek’s dad burst out laughing. Tweek, however..

“Mom, please do me a huge favor and never say the words ‘sweet ass’ again,” he twitches slightly.

“You bet your sweet ass I will!” 

“Jesus christ!” 

After dinner is said and done, Tweek’s dad gives Kenny some of his clothing to wear to bed. 

Tweek tugs on his own clothing, climbing into bed. 

Kenny is setting up a spot on the floor.

“Dude,” Tweek swats at his hand. “What the hell are you doing? Stop.”

“You want me to just sleep without blankets and pillows?” Kenny jokes, but he knows what he means. 

“No, dumbass. You’re staying up here,” he rolls his eyes, scooting over towards the wall.

“Nah, I take up space.”

“And I don’t. Have you seen how small I am? We’ll both- Gh- fit, shitstick.”

Kenny reluctantly climbs in next to him, situating himself. Tweek knows that’s not the reason why he didn’t want to sleep in the bed. They both know it’s big enough for them both. 

“Stop acting like you don’t deserve nice things.”

“What do you mean?” Kenny laughs nervously.

“Yo-you know what I mean, asshole. You haven’t done anything wrong, so stop acting like you have,” Tweek isn’t going to sugar coat anything. 

“I’m n-“

“Don’t fucking lie to me man!” He sits up in bed. “You act like you’re always causing us trouble when you come over, no matter how many times we tell you you’re not. You talk as if all the places you’ve worked at fired you because of something you did when it’s clearly just your schedule not lining up properly. And now, you don’t even think you deserve to sleep in a proper bed at night?” 

Kenny remains silent for a bit. He chews on his nails. 

“Do you think Karen deserves a nice bed to sleep in? A loving family? A well paying job?”

He doesn’t respond.

“Answer me, Ken!”

“Obviously, I do! Okay? She’s my little sister and she’s an incredible person. She deserves a life like that.” 

“So why don’t you?” Tweek’s voice softens a bit. 

Kenny’s shoulders tremble a bit. Tweek tugs him into a sitting position, pulling him into a tight hug the minute he tears up. “Why don’t you?” He asks again.

“I don’t- I don’t know..” he buries his face in Tweek’s shoulder.

It’s not long before Tweek is crying too.

“I wanna get better..” he mumbles after a bit.

“I know. I know, you do. A-and.. and you’re going to. And I’m going to. We’ll get better together. But th- the first step to getting better, is to let yourself have nice things without beating yourself up over it.”

“Okay.. Okay..” he sniffs. 

Kenny has had a similar conversation with Tweek before, only the roles were reversed. The truth is, both of the blondes have their fair share of issues. Neither of them love themselves in the way that they should, and they haven’t started healing from it just yet. But despite this, Tweek holds him tighter still, making one last promise before they go to sleep.

“We’ll fix this mess.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit heavier than what I’ve wrote previously.  
> I felt a bit bad leaving off with such a shitty third chapter !!!!!!!! So I decided to go ahead and write the next one.   
> If you enjoy my writing, leave a comment !!! I love them !!! And kudos and such are also appreciated as well.   
> Happy new year, by the way!


	5. When your car breaks down in the middle of the road and explodes while you’re on your way to an important event

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *shits pants*  
> THIS TOOK SUCH A FUCKING LONG TIME AND ITS SO SHITTY I AM SO SORRY

Craig groans, blinking his eyes a few times to adjust to the light. He attempts to sit up, but the weight currently holding him down is a force to be reckoned with. Bebe swats at his shoulder, forcing him to lay back down before further curling into him. Her iron grip tightens even further to keep him from trying to leave. 

“Get the fuck off me,” he mumbles tiredly. 

“S..suck a dick, bitch..” her sleep filled groan is raspy and generally quiet, but sounds really loud right next to his ear. 

He rips his arms free, pushing at her shoulders and forcing her to get up. 

She whines in frustration and he whines back in a mock tone of her voice. 

“I have to piss,” he climbs over her, deliberately kicking her in the side. Not enough to hurt, but still enough to annoy her. 

Annoy her to the point where she grabs his ankle as he’s getting up, causing him to fall and hit his nose on the floor.

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you more,” she flips him off over her shoulder, rolling over and curling into the covers. 

As different as the two of them may be, they have one thing in common:

They’re both raging bitches when they first wake up. 

Craig heads to the bathroom, but not before yanking the covers off of Bebe, who curls up into herself, groaning loudly. 

He uses the bathroom and takes care of his hygiene.

The two of them spent a good portion of last night talking about Wendy and the blonde kid from his class.

He wishes he could put a name to his face, but until that happens he’s pretty good with just looking at him. 

He exits the bathroom to see Bebe, once again buried underneath the covers.

“Get up, asshole.”

He doesn’t miss the muffled ‘fuck off’ from underneath the blanket pile.

He rolls his eyes, pulling the covers off of her for a second time before tossing her over his shoulder. 

“Hey! Craiiig!” she kicks her feet. 

He places her down in front of the bathroom door.

“Go. Take care of your business and get dressed. I don’t wanna spend all day inside.”

“That’s a first..”

“Fuck you.” 

He allows her to do what she needs to do and get dressed.

“Put some tights on under that, it’s freezing right now,” he says in regards to the black pleated skirt she has on. 

“But that would ruin the look!” She complains.

“No it won’t. You can pair your top with the white stockings you have and it’ll be fine.”

She scoffs, but kicks off her shoes and shoves her skirt off so she can pull the stockings on like he said. 

“It actually kinda looks better this way.”

“Told you.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever, fashion icon. Let’s go back to your place so you can get dressed, too.”

After changing at home, slipping on the braided pink bracelet that matches Bebe’s blue one, they head out.

_________________________________

  
“Fuck off!” Craig flips her off.

“I win again, Craigory!” Bebe flips her hair over her shoulder. 

“That was such bullshit, how did you beat me with fucking Ken?” He says, spitting out the name in a disgusted way. 

“I’m just that good, Craig!” 

“You button mash!” 

“It works!”

“Whatever, let’s go play something else,” he rolls his eyes, getting off the stool in the Player One spot.

Bebe slings her arms around his shoulders, forcefully tugging him down into an uncomfortable, hunched over position to press a sloppy, wet kiss to the side of his cheek. 

“Ew! What the hell!” he can smell the cherry scent off of her lipgloss. 

He scrubs at his cheek.

“Don’t be mad because I’m better than you at Streetfighter,” she places a hand on her hip.

“You’re not better than me, you’re just lucky,” he scoffs.

She’s about to respond when a familiar voice cuts through all the other voices mingling together in the arcade.

“You’re such a fucking brat!” 

“I’m not a brat, I’m a winner!”

They turn to the source of the familiar tone, Kenny McCormick’s tone. Kenny and..

Craig grabs on to Bebe’s jacket sleeve and Bebe, despite not knowing his reasoning for doing so, grabs onto his as well, the two of them attempting to shake the other by their sleeve which ends in them awkwardly stumbling and bumping into each other due to the forced pull in opposite directions. 

“Why are we excited?” she bounces on her toes, tugging on his sleeve, but her confused expression remains.

“That’s him. With McCormick.”

“You button mashed! I hardly call that winning!” Kenny places his hand on the blonde’s face, pushing him backward.

The blonde then grabs onto Kenny’s wrist to stabilize himself.

“I still won!” 

“That’s him?” she looks the blonde up and down. “He looks homeless.”

“That’s just because he’s standing next to Kenny,” he retorts.

The blonde’s hair is messy as ever, he’s wearing his same untied combat boots, along with ripped jeans and an Avril Lavigne T-shirt that hangs down to his thighs. It’s paired with Kenny’s orange parka. 

The hood of that parka is yanked forward and over the blonde’s head with enough force to cause him to bend forward. 

“Guess your boyfriend is a button masher, Craig,” Bebe says slyly. 

He huffs in frustration. 

“It’s cute when he does it. You’re just a bitch,” he knocks Bebe’s hip with his.

“You’re just a sore loser,” she crosses her arms.

“You’re just a sore loser!” The blonde unknowingly echoes Bebe’s statement.

“Let’s go say hi!” 

Panic stabs it’s way through his chest, his usual resolve crumbling as the feeling claws it’s way out enough to become apparent. 

He swiftly grabs Bebe’s sleeve.

“No no no no-“ 

“Why not? He’s right there, this is your chance!”

“No, Bebe, _please_ -“ he turns to the two blondes again, Kenny meeting his eyes. 

He lifts his hand to wave at the two of them. Bebe and Craig resume a more casual, less awkward looking stance, Craig letting go of her sleeve, and her standing in an upright position. With shaking hands, he manages to wave back.

His eyes dart to the blonde. The blonde who’s eyebrows lift slightly upon seeing him. He twitches, but waves to him. 

He didn’t know what happened in that moment, and even months later he would sometimes look back on it and still couldn’t pinpoint it exactly.

Fortunately he would come to know eventually, but not on his own. 

“We need to go.”

“What?”

“ _Now_. Now, Bebe, we need to go now.”

He grabs her by the wrist and tugs her past running children and arcade machines. All the colors in the room, the LED lights, the brightly colored machines, the tacky carpet and wallpaper, they all seem blinding in that moment. 

“Craig what’s going on?” Bebe tries to plant her heels on the carpet, but ends up just getting dragged.

“Nothing- let’s go somewhere else.”

“Why?”

_ “Let’s go somewhere else!” _

He maneuvers around everyone, Bebe in tow. The only thing he can really see clearly is his outstretched hand in front of him, pushing the glass door open and hunching to his knees to take a heavy breath. The feeling hits him in a flash, burning and crawling it’s way up through his chest. His eyes widen.

“Craig are you-“

He shoves Bebe out of the way, gagging and vomiting into the pine straw harboring the shrubbery outside the arcade. 

Bebe immediately rushes to his side, pulling his hair and the strings of his chullo hat back.

“Craig, what happened?” She grasps his shoulders and places her hand gently against his sternum, feeling his breathing slow down.

“Noth- nothing I just wasn’t expecting it..” he pants.

“Expecting what?”

“For him t- to be there,” he coughs. 

He’s not quite sure why exactly that happened. What he does know is, he feels so fucking stupid for letting it happen. 

“Craig?” 

“Everything happened all at once.. it- I- him being there, the thought of talking to him, and fucking Kenny- I-“ 

“Hey, it’s fine.. we can leave..” she hesitantly places a hand on his back. “Do you wanna go do something or..?”

“Let’s just go home..”

_________________________________  
  


“What just happened?” Tweek stares at the empty space where the guy from his class and that blonde girl just were. 

“I’m not sure. He seemed a bit shaken, I hope he’s okay,” Kenny sticks his thumb through the belt loop on his jeans. 

“He’s in my class.”

“Which one?”

“Forensics. He’s the one that isn’t mean to me.” Kenny snorts at that. “What?”

“That’s unusual.” 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Tweek grabs Kenny by the earlobe.

“No! Not because of you! It’s just.. That’s Craig. He’s not exactly notorious for his generosity and kindness,” he says, swatting Tweek’s hand off his face.

“Funny. He’s actually the nicest person I’ve met besides you,” Tweek sticks his hands into the pockets of Kenny’s Parka. It’s much too big for him, but Kenny insisted he wear it anyway.

“Maybe he’s got a crush on you,” Kenny snickers.

“Don’t joke like that, Ken,” he chuckles.  


“No, I’m serious. The only person Craig is nice to is Bebe, because they’re best friends, and he’s not even all that sweet to her.”

“No one in their right mind would have a crush on me. I’m way too-“ 

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to say,” he giggles.

“Don’t care. Quit degrading yourself,” Kenny slings an arm around his shoulders, tugging him in for a side hug.

“ _You_ quit degrading yourself.”

“We’ll quit degrading ourselves together, one day.” 

_________________________________  
  


The two of them walk down the concrete stairs, Tweek jumping the last few steps. 

“You wanna stay over again, tonight?” 

Kenny hums, grabbing Tweek by the sleeve and tugging him closer so he can grab his car keys from the pocket of his parka.

“I don’t wanna-“ he starts, but retracts his statement. “I mean, sure.”

Tweek smiles a bit. It’s good to see him making an effort.

“Can we go pick up Karen from Craig’s place first?” he unlocks the truck, rolling his eyes at Tweek who had been tugging impatiently on the handle. “Don’t break my car.”

“It’s already halfway there, anyway. It’ll probably break down in the middle of the road and explode while you’re on your way to some important event,” Tweek huffs, climbing in the passengers seat. “But yeah, we can go get her.”

The little keychain dangling from the mirror catches Tweek’s eye.

“What’s that from?” he asks, tapping it with his finger.

“An anime. It was a gift from someone,” Kenny responds, putting the truck in reverse.

“Who?” 

“Doesn’t matter.”

Tweek doesn’t miss the bitten smile on Kenny’s face, teeth sinking into his bottom lip in a failed attempt to conceal it. 

“Okay, don’t tell me,” he says in a fake dejected way.

“I’m not gonna,” Kenny snorts.

_________________________________  


“Craig, would you get that, please?” His mom shouts from the kitchen. 

He runs his tongue over his braces. 

He told Bebe he wanted to be alone, so she went home. He didn’t, but that’s what he told her. 

There’s another knock at the door.

“Craig! Answer the fucking door, please!”

“Why can’t you do it?” He calls from the living room.

“Because I’m making dinner like a responsible mother!” 

He can’t see it, but he can feel it in his bones that she’s flipping him off, so he sticks up his own middle finger. He stands to go answer the door.

His heart nearly stops when he sees that it’s-

“Kenny!” He winces at the way his voice cracks.

“Hey, Tucker,” he salutes him.

His nails are painted in alternating-mostly chipped-pink and blue polish.

“What do you want?”

“Uh, my sister, dude.”

“Right- right, I’ll just-“ he’s about to rush upstairs and tell Karen her brother is here for her so he doesn’t have to look at his face any longer, but..

“Hey, man. I know we don’t talk much, but are you okay? You seemed a bit upset at the arcade earlier.”

“What’s it to you?” He snaps.

He really didn’t mean to, but he can’t help but feel irritated at Kenny for no valid reason other than he’s close with the blonde from his class.

“Sorry, sorry. None of my business. Just lookin’ out for a friend of a friend.”

Craig furrows his eyebrows, the tip of his tongue coming in contact with the metal brackets and wires on his braces once again. 

“I’ll go get Karen.”

And with that, he slams the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for taking such a long time. I’ve spent the last few days getting high and eating garlic bread.  
> I’m also preparing for an audition for an expensive preppy performing arts school and marinating in the fact that I’ll never go to Juilliard or SCAD.  
> But still I don’t really have much to offer with this chapter. It’s rushed and really bad and it was originally longer, but I didn’t like it so I scrapped a lot of ithsshhshs.


	6. Of olive branches (a pack of sour skittles) and leaving your Bebe in a car and forgetting about her

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have almost the entire story outlined and it’s just a matter of filling in!   
> I’m afraid that my strong suits happen to be dialogue and concepts, but not the actual blood and guts and stuff of a story. So I apologize for the lack of quality in my writing, but I hope you can enjoy it despite that!

“I think you’re a jealous idiot, Craig.”

Craig’s eyes widen and he stutters in shock. Of course, he knows he’s slightly jealous. And he also knows that slamming the door in Kenny McCormick’s face was slightly idiotic. But he didn’t expect her to be so rude about his brief state of jealous idiocy.

He adjusts his bag on his shoulder, running his tongue over his braces.

“What I _did_ was jealous and idiotic, yes. But that doesn’t mean I’m a jealous idiot!” Craig declares.

“Jealous idiots do jealous, idiotic things, Craig! You just described a jealous idiot!” Bebe stamps her foot like a child.

He tries to think up a defense before they get to the hallway intersections, but he can’t. 

“I’ll see you later, Craigory. Don’t punch Kenny for no reason, please?” She says, kissing his cheek. He scrubs off the wet spot.

“Gross. Go salivate on Wendy.” He flips her off. “Later.” 

Bebe turns left while he turns right. He walks down the hallway to Forensics Science, pausing just outside the door. The blonde is in this class. That same blonde saw him practically lose his shit at an arcade on Saturday. 

Craig is a Tucker. Tuckers do not _‘lose shit.’_

In fact, all their _shit_ remains perfectly monitored and intact, should they ever lose it, well.. that doesn’t happen. Or, he thought it didn’t. 

Even in fights, a Tucker remains calm and collected. He’s seen each of his family members kick someone’s ass, and he’s also kicked a fair amount of ass himself. But, when it comes down to it, a Tucker typically does not _lose their shit_. 

So.. why did he? 

“Any day now, Mr. Tucker.”

The voice of his forensics science teacher pries its way into his thoughts. He takes a deep breath and enters the class room. His eyes meet the blonde’s, who waves at him and offers a small, anxious smile. He blushes and waves back before sitting down in his seat.

“Morning, Tucker,” Kyle nods, taking his murder notes out of his perfectly organized labeled binder for this particular class. 

“Broflovski,” he greets him, sitting down on his stupid, uncomfortable science room stool.

He grabs his own murder notes out of his bag, along with his-technically Kyle’s-pencil.

Their teacher goes on about something or other. He watches as students furrow their eyebrows in frustration due to the fact that the teacher is talking while they’re working.

His eyes flicker to the blonde for probably the fiftieth time ever. Since he got here, all he’s done in this class is stare at him. His fucking blonde, messy hair. His twitches. 

“When are you gonna talk to him and quit staring like a maniac?” 

He turns to the redhead who had the audacity to make an excellent point.

“I just haven’t gotten around to it,” he retorts. 

“Yuh-huh. When do you think you’ll get around to it?” He wraps one of his curls around his pencil, a common display of boredom, or in this case, a display of being done with Craig Tucker’s shit. 

“I will! I don’t know anything about him. I don’t even know his name.” 

“You could ask Kenny,” Kyle shrugs. “They hang out a lot.”

Craig furrows his eyebrows at the mention of Kenny. Specifically the mention of Kenny and the blonde hanging out. 

“ _Oh, my_.. have I struck a cord?” Kyle inspects his nails, giving Craig a bored look.

Craig studies his face for a minute, trying to think of some sort of comeback. He eventually comes up with:

“Why do you even bother?” 

He just shrugs in response. “I’m bored. Talk to Kenny or don’t, I’m only trying to help.”

“Even if I _did_ wanna talk to Kenny, I doubt he wants to talk to me. I kinda slammed a door in his face the last time I saw him..” Craig runs his tongue over his braces.

“Typical.” Kyle scoffs, and before Craig can respond, continues with:

“Even if you were a massive dick, Kenny wouldn’t, forgive my wording, slam the door in your face if you needed help. That’s not who he is. He’s not the type to turn people away unless you’re a real, Grade-A asshole.”

“I am a real, Grade-A asshole,” Craig rolls his eyes. 

“Right, sorry. What I mean is, unless you’re an absolute shit person who isn’t deserving of human decency, Kenny isn’t gonna shut you out like that,” Kyle insists.

Craig bites his lip. “What does he classify as an absolute shit person who isn’t deserving of human decency?”

“You’re asking a lot of questions for someone who allegedly won’t be talking to McCormick about his new, freaky blonde crush.”

“Shut up and tell me.”

“Okay, look. Kenny probably will still help you... _but_ if you _really_ are worried about it, he likes sour skittles,” Kyle shrugs, turning back to his murder notes. 

Craig pretends not to notice the sadistic little smile on his face as he doodles pictures of Eric Cartman being put through the process of his perfect murder.

He reminds himself not to piss off Broflovski. 

_________________________________   
  


“What’cha got there, Craig?” 

He pulls the chartreuse packet of skittles out of the little slot on the vending machine before standing to face Bebe.

“A peace offering.”

“For..?” She presses.

“McCormick.” 

She launches herself at him, squeezing him tightly. 

“I’m so proud of you!” she squeals. 

“Don’t be proud just yet,” he pats her on the back. “I’m only doing it because I need his help.”

“Oh,” she promptly shoves him backwards. “I retract my statement.” 

He stuffs the skittles in his pocket. “Yeah, yeah. I’m an asshole.”

“At least you know,” she says, linking their arms to walk down the hallway. 

They exit the building, walking down the concrete steps. 

“Slight detour on the way home. Gotta stop by the elementary school.”

“What for?”

“McCormick works there after school on Mondays and Thursdays.”

She slips her arm out of his when they get to his car, climbing into the passengers seat. 

“What exactly is it that you need from him?” 

“Intel.” 

He cringes. Why’d he make it sound like some weird spy mission? 

“Info..” that doesn’t sound any better. “On the blonde.”

She crosses her leg over the other. “Oddly stalker-ish of you, Craigory.” 

“You wouldn’t understand. You’re actually friends with your crush. I don’t even know mine,” he makes a turn toward the elementary school. 

“I guess you’re right.”

“I usually am.” 

_________________________________

It took a minute to actually find out which room Kenny was working in.His feet move quickly. He just wants this over with. He stops in front of a door with a tacky wooden decoration on it painted to look like a bumblebee. 

He knocks on the door and is met with a girl about his age. 

“Can I help you?” Her sing-songy voice is just breaching nails on a chalkboard. Maybe a bunch of LEGO’s in a dryer. 

“Yeah. I need to see Kenny,” he says almost hurriedly.

“Sure! I’ll go grab him for you!” She spins on her heel. 

She’d be an awful security guard. 

“Tucker?” Kenny comes in to view. “Did you come to apologize for slamming the door in my face?”

Craig’s cheeks heat up and he shoves his hand into his pocket, tossing the packet of skittles to Kenny, who catches it swiftly in his hand.

“Sorry..” he mumbles. 

He looks up to meet Kenny’s eyes, almost falling backward when he sees the dark glare being sent his way. 

“You disgust me.”

“What?”

“You’re an asshole, Craig Tucker. Never will you darken my doorway again, understand? Get out of my sight,” Kenny spits.

Craig stutters, eyes going wide. Kenny looks.. legitimately mad. Until he starts laughing, that is. 

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself,” he giggles. “It’s all good, man. Don’t worry about it.”

He sighs with relief. 

“Okay, cool. So I kinda need your help-“

“ _And_ my help you will receive. _After_ work. Until then, you’re free to wait here,” he offers, opening the door for him. 

_________________________________

Watching Kenny with all those kids was honestly kind of refreshing. He’s genuinely good with them, and he doesn’t treat kids on the spectrum like they’re totally helpless or different, either. He treats them as he would treat any other kid. They seem to like him a whole bunch, too. 

It’s a side of Kenny McCormick that Craig wasn’t even aware he had. He realizes that he’d just assumed Kenny was a lowlife like his parents and never really considered that he might be different. He feels.. really bad. 

He watches as Kenny listens to a story one of the little girls is telling. One by one, the children’s parents come to pick them up, and by the end of it, Kenny is smiling from ear to ear. 

That’s when he remembers.

“Uh, I kinda forgot I left Bebe in the car.. so can we make this quick?”

“Irresponsible,” Kenny tuts, shaking his head.

“She has air conditioning and snacks in her purse, she’s fine.”

Kenny chuckles, gesturing for Craig to start walking down the hallway.

“So, what is it you need my help with, Craig? Must be important if you’re coming to me,” he tears open the bag of skittles, offering some to Craig who promptly shakes his head. The sour ones always made his mouth bleed like hell. 

“Uh.. you know that blonde kid, right?” His voice cracks. Kenny pretends not to notice.

“I know a lot of blonde kids, Craig,” he says through a mouth full of skittles.

“The new one. Who’s always hanging out with you.”

“Ah, Tweek. I know him like the back of my hand. Love him to death, but he’s a real handful sometimes,” he chuckles.

A pit of jealousy forms in Craig’s stomach. He must have known him before he moved down here. Are they..?

The two of them exit the stupid yellow building, Kenny skipping the steps while Craig walks down them. 

“Are you like.. dating or whatever?” He mumbles.

With that, Kenny stops in his tracks. 

“Dude,” he laughs breathily.

“What?”

“Tweek’s my cousin.”

There’s a few beats of silence.

“Oh.. that- that explains a lot, actually..” and it also sets Craig’s mind at ease. 

“Yeah. He’s from Cali, actually. His parents own a coffee shop, moved down here to expand their business,” he explains.

“Can you.. tell me a bit about him?” 

Kenny hums.

“Out of respect for him, I will tell you about him, but I _won’t_ tell you how to win him over. That’s all you, if you play your cards right it’ll be his choice whether or not he wants to take things further. Understand?” Kenny says sternly. 

It’s clear that he’s protective of the blonde-or, Tweek as he now knows to call him. His respect for Kenny grows further, since it’s clear he cares about those he loves very much. Normally he would make some sort of snappish remark, but this time he finds himself saying:

“I understand.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My audition for that stupid preppy school is next week and I really fucking hope I get in lmao.  
> That aside:   
> I really need a job LMAO. There’s so much stuff I wanna get, like I’m seeing so many cool things that I could use for my altar and I really want more tarot decks 🤩   
> I also want to buy a copy of The Secret History but I’m still in the middle of The Goldfinch.  
> But for all that stuff I need money, and for that I need a job.   
> For someone who has a horrible relationship with its parents, I sure do rely on them a lot for money.


	7. The absolute award winning conversation of the year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t have much to offer with this chapter but look!  
> They spoke!

Now armed with knowledge of his newfound (and first found) crush, Craig feels both excited and anxious to see him again. 

He learned that Tweek doesn’t like things that are overly sweet such as gummies or fruit candy, but he does like more subtle sweets like unfrosted cake and chocolate. He likes the color yellow, and if you look closely you can see it incorporated in many things about him. Such as the pins on his backpack, small accessories in his clothing, and even a lot of the everyday items he owns. He likes coffee, but he prefers it with little to no additives like cream or sugar. He always needs to have things a certain way or he’ll get agitated, and he doesn’t like small visual changes (not to mention large, impactful ones). If so much as a pen in his room is moved from its original spot, he’ll get uncomfortable, which is why his room is messy so often since he gets used to it looking a certain way. Much unlike Craig’s, which is usually neat and tidy. 

He’s also vegetarian, an extra little fun fact. He’s jittery and anxious, but Craig knew this just by looking at him. But according to Kenny, once he gets comfortable with you he’ll start to calm down and open up. His tics will slow down, but not completely go away. After all, that’s not something he can really control.

Craig spends half an hour telling all of this to Bebe. He likes him even more now that he knows a bit more about him. He’s complicated and nowhere near simplistic, but Craig likes that about him. He’s interesting and it makes Craig want to get to know even more about him. He wants to hopefully be someone that Tweek is comfortable around. 

And Bebe’s response to all this is:

“He sounds super annoying.”

She’s not being mean, or at the very least not trying to be. Her statement is said through giggles, and it’s as if she’s more so making fun of Craig than Tweek.

“No he doesn’t!” He says, flipping Bebe off.

“I’m sorry but he does!” She giggles. “He sounds so picky and irritating! He doesn’t even tie his shoes, Craig!” 

“He just likes things a certain way, that’s it!” 

“I hope he’s not one of those vegetarians that always talks about being vegetarian, that’s super obnoxious!” She cackles.

“You can’t say anything about Tweek when you like Wendy Testaburger. She’s the epitome of obnoxious,” he cackles, lunging forward to press his hand against her face, immediately retracting with disgust when she licks his palm. 

“What’s wrong with Wendy?” She crosses her arms.

“Everything! _Little miss perfect_ is the girl who reminds the teacher to collect homework at the end of class. And she always talks about being vegan, which is no different than when vegetarians do it!” He dodges the pillow thrown at his face, laughing loudly when she puffs her cheeks in frustration.

“She’s a good, dedicated member of our student body!” She declares. “And at least her name isn’t Tweek.”

“What was it you said to me before?” He says in fake consideration. “Oh right, when I meet a cute, blonde boy I’d find all his flaws attractive. And now you’re teasing me for finding his flaws attractive!”

Her mouth opens and closes like a fish. It’s clear she’s trying to think of something to say. Silence follows for the next few seconds before her shoulders fall in defeat.

“Fine. You win. I won’t tease you for your annoying crush if you don’t tease me for mine,” she holds out her hand.

“So you admit she’s annoying?” He smirks.

“Maybe, sometimes. She can be a little anno- just shake my hand before I change my mind!” She groans.

He spits into his palm and shakes her hand, cackling when she shrieks with disgust, attempting to yank her hand out of his iron grip.

_“Ew! Craiiig!!!”_

“That’s payback for all the times you kissed my cheek and slobbered on my face.”

“I don’t slobber!” She whines. “You disgusting freak!”

“You’re.. actually right, that was super gross,” he laughs breathily. “Let’s go wash our hands.”

He offers her his spit soaked hand, which she takes with her own spit soaked hand. They walk spit soaked hand in spit soaked hand to the bathroom to wash their spit soaked hands so they can no longer be referred to as “spit soaked.”

They spend the rest of the night talking about their, as deemed by one another, annoying crushes and tossing snacks into each other’s mouths. Snack catching is one of Bebe’s specialties, a secret talent of hers. That, and tango. (She and Craig took a class together)

Bebe settles in next to Craig, situating herself so she’s comfortable. 

She offers her no longer spit soaked hand.

“I wish you luck with your annoying crush.”

“And I wish you luck with yours.” 

He takes her hand in his, squeezing tightly before loosening his grip. 

“To annoying crushes,” she giggles.

“To annoying crushes.”

_________________________________

By the time he and Bebe part ways at the hallway intersection, he has just about a million thoughts zipping through his head.

Usually Craig Tucker’s head is like one of those record rooms with all the filing cabinets in alphabetical order consisting of all the important information. But right now it’s as if some little shit came in and tipped all the cabinets over like dominoes and left everything in a chaotic heap with papers scattered everywhere and files all mixed up. Needless to say, the after effects of the said ‘domino tipping’ are always a real bitch to clean up. 

He’s gonna try and finally talk to Tweek today. After roughly a week and a half of staring at his knotted blonde hair and literally suppressing the urge to say ‘aww’ whenever he twitches, he’s finally gonna strike up a conversation before class starts. Maybe he could get closer to becoming his friend. Maybe they could even exchange numbers. He bets any conversation with Tweek would be as interesting as he is as a person. Or, as interesting as he sounds based on what Kenny told him. When the moment of truth finally arrives, the absolute, award winning conversation of the year takes place:

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

And then Craig sits down in his seat.

Kyle slow claps, that same bored look he’s given Craig several times within the past week painted across his face. 

“Congratulations, Craig. You’ve practically just lost your fucking virginity right in front of my eyes,” Kyle says with fake enthusiasm.

“Fuck off, Broflovski.”

_“Who jizzed in your cereal, Craig,”_ Kyle says in a mock, nasally monotone voice. 

He flips him off, making it a point to wave his hand around in front of his face to further emphasize the middle finger the redhead is currently receiving. 

Craig grabs his stuff out of his bag, sighing in frustration.

He spends half the time writing notes for his murder, and then the other half pondering what could have been if he had actually talked to Tweek. 

He hears one of those little ‘gh’ noises from him, but it sounds a bit more frustrated than it usually is.

That’s when he looks up to see a crumpled piece of paper, thrown by Jason White, hit the side of Tweek’s face, bouncing off his cheek and onto the desk alongside a second piece of paper. 

_ Seriously? That’s so elementary school.  _

Annie leans over to blow into his ear, causing him to jerk violently and cover his ear in discomfort. Craig furrows his eyebrows. He’s seen them tease him before, but they usually stop after one comment or so. This time, it’s physical teasing. Since they’ve gotten away with light stuff before, they’re probably less cautious now. 

Annie makes a comment about his twitching, calling him an addict and jabbing him in the side with the eraser of her pencil. The two of them continue to do things that trigger his tics. It’s basically torture. Craig is about to put a stop to it, but-

Tweek’s stool clatters to the floor and his hands slam down onto the desk as he stands.

_ “Just fuck off already!” _

Everyone freezes, turning to look at the blonde. Including their teacher.

“Mr. Tweak, language and outbursts like that will not be tolerated in my classroom!” she declares sternly. 

Tweek freezes, as if he’s just realized what he’s done.

“I’m assigning you an after school detention.”

Craig, a person who is usually known for thinking before speaking, does not think before he speaks.

“What the fuck?” His own stool clatters to the floor as well.

Tweek, as well as the teacher turn to face him. He runs his tongue over his braces. Too late to turn back now. Might as well fuel the flame. 

“Annie and Jason have been practically torturing him, and he stands up for himself and _he_ gets detention?” He spits.

“Mr. Tucker, did I not make myself clear? If you’re so intent on advocating for him, you can join him. Detention. After school, _both of you_. I’m sure you’re no stranger there.” She turns to the rest of the class. “Anybody else?” After a minute of surveying the impossibly silent classroom, she says: “That’s what I thought. Craig, Tweek, pick up your stools and sit down. And _please_ , no more interruptions.”

Tweek gawks at him for a moment before rushing to sit back down. Craig picks up his own stool and does the same.

“Congratulations, Tucker. You’ve officially got your balls back,” Kyle snorts.

“Shut up, Broflovski.”

_________________________________  
  


_“Detention!”_ Bebe cackles. “I can’t believe your dumb crush landed you in detention!”

“It’s not because of my crush! I would’ve done it for anyone else!” He argues.

“Craig, don’t lie.”

“..okay fine.”

“It’s not like you haven’t gotten detention before. You’ll survive,” she pats his cheek.

“Whatever. You’re either walking home or taking the bus, unless you feel like waiting.”

“Eric Cartman takes the bus,” she scrunches up her nose. “But.. I don’t wanna walk all the way home.”

“I’ll give you my car keys so you can wait in the car.”

“Sweet, thanks Craigory!” She places yet another sloppy, wet, disgusting kiss to the side of his cheek.

“Don’t make me spit in your hand again.”

She reaches into his jacket pocket, plucking out his keys. 

“Stay in the parking lot, turn the air on in intervals. Don’t run down all my gas.”

“Sure, whatever!” Her heels echo against the tile as she runs off.

“Bebe, my gas!”

_________________________________   
  


Craig enters the gym, the sound of the door being pushed open echoing loudly. The gym coach nods his head toward the bleachers.

Craig’s eyes meet Tweek’s, who waves at him. He waves back, making his way up the bleachers to sit next to him. 

Tweek opens his mouth to say something when the shrill sound of a whistle pierces their ears. He twitches at the sound.

“For our newcomers,” Coach looks at Tweek specifically, almost like a call out. “As always, detention ends at 4:30. You will leave _no earlier_ than the given time. You will sit in silence, read, work on homework. No, you may _not_ use your phones. Back to work.”

He blows his stupid whistle again, before leaving the gym. 

Craig looks around. He sees the usual faces: The Goth Kids, that French kid who’s always covered in dirt, Damien Thorne, surprisingly Cartman is nowhere to be seen today. While there are regulars, there’s also a few newer ones like Pip Pirrup (probably got dragged down for something Damien did) and Lola Johnson. 

Tweek tugs lightly at his sleeve. He turns to look at him.

“Thank you,” he whispers. “I did- I didn’t get a chance to say it.”

“For what?” He whispers back, though he knows full well what he means.

“For standing up for me even though you’d get in trouble. It was really nice,” he clarifies. 

“It’s no problem. I’m in detention all the time anyway,” he shrugs it off.

“Still, thank you.”

His eyes drift down to the binder in Tweek‘s lap. On top of it is his murder project for Forensics. He seems a bit stuck.

“Turn the heater up.”

“What?” 

Craig points to his paper. “If you turn the heat on, it’ll be difficult to determine the time of death.”

“Oh, sweet. Thanks.”

“No worries.”

Craig leans in a little bit closer under the guise of trying to see what Tweek was writing to help with his project.

He smells like coffee, Craig notes. This is the closest he has ever been to him. Needless to say, he’s gonna talk Bebe’s ear off about it later.

Though it didn’t exactly go as he planned, he did get to talk to Tweek today. He hopes they get to talk a lot more often, but no matter how many conversations they have, their first ever conversation will always be rated the absolute award winning conversation of the year. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Truthfully I actually never got detention ever in my life. Not even once. So I don’t know what detention is like at all so I just... improvised.  
> Anyways, I hope you like it.  
> Also I would literally break down comments and snort them up my nose if I could so feel free to comment ! 🐝

**Author's Note:**

> The first chapter was honestly kind of Meh,  
> Short and sweet.  
> Not my best work at all by far, but I hope to improve it as time goes on.  
> This is just the Kickstarter.  
> the base grounds for hopefully something great.


End file.
